Stacia Kane: Unholy Ghosts

Terrible shook his head. “Give her some private, Bump. C’mon. She ain’t gonna run, not with that thing after her, aye?”

Guilt worked its way into her bones, so deep it almost hurt. “I’ll be right back.”

“I gots men all over that fuckin edge, yay? Tell they I say let you be.”

She nodded and headed for the far edge, trying to move quickly enough that it looked like she needed to get there but not so quickly that it looked as if she was about to wet her pants. Her face burned.

Pitted metal cut into her hands, especially her wounded right one. An added bonus, rust working into her burn. She grabbed her water bottle when she got over the fence and poured some onto her palm, but it was too dark to know if it really helped. Nothing to do but forget it and get on with the job.

For a minute she stood, looking uncertainly around, aware that in removing herself from the sight of Terrible and Bump she’d also made herself vulnerable. If Lex’s plan to keep the airport from reopening included kidnapping her—again—she’d just handed herself to him on a shiny tray of deceit.

No sound but the dry wind hit her ears. The houses were dark, abandoned-looking in the pale washed-out glow of the moon. Their inhabitants were probably asleep. A trickle of sweat ran down her spine. They were asleep, all of them. She could almost feel them sleeping, turning fitfully in their rumpled, damp beds, their dreams being converted to energy for the thing she was about to fight. Alone.

Lex grabbed her hand. She jumped and swung automatically, but he ducked. His soft laugh caressed her skin. “Jumpy, tulip?”

“What do you want, Lex? This isn’t really a good time.”

“Oh?” His hands settled on her waist, fingers curving to draw her close. In spite of herself she shivered, closing her eyes at the feel of his teeth scraping the base of her throat. “Feels like a good time to me.”

With effort she pulled away. “No, it’s not. I had to tell them I needed to go to the bathroom, they’ll be waiting for me. So talk fast.”

“Aye, right. You ain’t forget our agreement, I hope.”

“No, I didn’t forget. This isn’t about the ghosts. It’s about the thief, and he could show up again any minute, so—”

“Bump gonna be expecting you finish the job. What you gonna tell him, he ask?”

“I thought you didn’t care.”

“Maybe I do. A little.”

“You said you had some information for me.”

He watched her for a minute, his expression blank. “Aye, got some right. Been doing some looking on my own, tulip. Keeping my ear down, aye? Had people here today, my people, seen them Lamarus. And they know , dig? What’s on the happening.”

“They’ve known all along, those guys who broke in and—”

“Nay, nay. Ain’t what I mean. They know you, where you live, aye. But they know what’s going down here. They know you charging it off tonight. Gonna be some shit here, so get it done, get out clean. Head for the tunnel, I catch you there.”

“Why?”

“Huh?”

“Why? What if I do end up Banishing those ghosts tonight, what then? Will you still be waiting for me, or what? What are you going to do to me?”

Even in the dim moonlight she could see his smile. “Aw, tulip. Seems to me you oughta know by now what I do. Thought you got pretty familiar with it.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Only willpower kept her voice from getting shaky.

He kissed her, still holding her hips close enough that she had to lean back. Her already shaky nerves went into overload, speed and adrenaline and lust combining to make her knees weak, and she clung to him in a way that would have embarrassed her if she hadn’t been so desperate to pretend none of this was happening.

“I got belief in you,” he said finally. “You ain’t stupid. You figure something out.”

“That’s a big help.”

“You forgetting, I ain’t a helpful guy.”

She snorted and turned back toward the fence. In another minute they would send someone to look for her, if they hadn’t already. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Okay.” She dropped her bag on the ground next to Slipknot’s foul remains and planted her hands on her hips. Her head grew lighter, but she forced herself to ignore it. She could not mess this up. It was her life on the line now, in more ways than one. “It’s extremely important that no one goes to sleep. What we’re dealing with…he feeds on sleep, or he can. He can make you tired. So whatever you need to do to stay awake, do it.”

They nodded, good little soldiers one and all, with the exception of Bump and Terrible. Bump stood apart from it all, the diamonds on his fingers throwing off moonlight sparks. And Terrible…He just watched, waiting, the tension in his body evident.

“Also, I think the people who did this to start with may be here tonight. Might show up, I mean. Nothing can break my circle. If that circle breaks once I’ve gotten started we’ve got a problem, and I mean a real problem. So you guys have to keep everyone away from it, okay? Come over here, please, I want to mark you all first. It might help.”

It only took a few minutes to finish scrawling sigils on their foreheads with the new piece of black chalk she’d bought that afternoon. When she was done they looked like members of a bizarre chorus line. She half expected them to start dancing.

“Spread you out, keep watch,” Bump said. “Let ladybird do she fuckin work. You sleep, you die, yay? No fuckin sleeping.”

Grass rustled under their feet as they moved, but Chess didn’t watch. Feeling like a floor show, she checked her compass, knelt and set up her stang holder, put her other odds and ends at its base while she marked off a septagram with her feet and placed a candle at each point. The septagram would provide extra energy, extra protection; she’d only used one once before, but it was part of the established Church curriculum. A few Debunkers used them every time.

Wind lifted her hair from her shoulders as she finished and looked around, half expecting to see Ereshdiran’s pink teeth bared at her. Instead she saw only blank ground, only the backs of Bump’s men as they kept watch like they’d been told.

And Terrible. She threw him a quick smile, and he nodded back. Working now, no time for such frivolities as being pleasant. Or he was simply nervous. Having faced the Dreamthief, having seen Randy’s body and felt the house shake, he knew far better than the others what they were up against. And that didn’t even take into account the unknown number of Lamaru who might show up at any moment, ready for battle.

Not her concern. At least not if she was lucky. Only a dozen or so men stood between her and whoever might show up, but they were certainly tough enough.

With the chalk she drew more sigils on her forehead and cheeks, coloring the final lines on some of her tattoos to activate them. She’d never marked up this much before.

Her new skull came out next, then the cauldron and charcoal, which she lit with a wooden match. It would burn, then smoke out so she could add the herbs.

A few more minutes and she was ready, the herbs and various other accoutrements lined up in their pouches next to the cauldron, the amulet in her pocket ready to be pulled out when needed. If not for the extra candles and the iron firedish, it would have looked almost like she was setting up a regular ritual. Thank the Church for training her so thoroughly, and thank magic itself for having rules. Once you knew the rules thoroughly enough you could manipulate them and get whatever results you needed.

One more step. She washed a couple of Cepts down with water and, bending over deep in a semi fruitful attempt to block the wind, did two more bumps.